The Biggest Scam in Film Photography

Next to me in my desk is a drawer. Inside that drawer is a box. The box’s contents are Instax, Polaroid, and Instant film images I’ve made since I started the Phoblographer 16 years ago. I can officially say that I’ve made some of those images before my friends’ children were born. Lots of memories come to mind when I ponder on what’s in that box specifically and I can tell you stories about pretty much every single image. But the truth is that I can do that with pretty much all of my digital images too. This is why I’m so torn on instant film and I think it’s been the biggest scam in film photography.

I remember when my mother, cousins, aunts, uncles, and grandparents would break out albums, sit us all down on the couch and show us images from way back in the day when we were all younger. Those were wonderful and sometimes embarrassing moments.

As I grew into my 20s, I didn’t make instant photos or prints that embarrassed people. Instead, I made images that expressed something or that documented a memory.

I still remember all of these moments. But I also remember everything about the digital images I made. Ultimately, this is what I found to be the biggest scam in film photography: the idea that having tangible moments is all that mattered.

I think that both formats are legitimate in their own ways. I could store so many images in the cloud or on my NAS. But I can also store a lot of images in my box of Instax prints. As time goes on, I just care less and less about them.

Why do I have them?

Why was I told that I had to hold onto those memories?

At this point, if my printed Instax photos burn up and disappear, I’ll still have those memories. But I won’t miss the experience of holding the photos in my hands. If all my digital images disappear, I think that I’d panic.

Close to two years ago, I got off of all social media. But before I did, I made sure to go in and download images of me that I know that I’d want and miss. And I’ve still got those images in several cloud storage setups and on my own computer.

Most importantly, all my Instax cameras basically sit there in shelves or in bags and are never touched after I’m finished reviewing them.

So I asked myself why I don’t print my images out more often. And the reason was pretty simple: it’s expensive. Making big prints from my working Canon printer is pricey. And so too are printing photos from my Instax cameras. Ultimately, I print them for a chance at holding them.

For the first time in my career as a photographer and a journalist, I care that my images exist. But I also know that I won’t care if they disappear. While trying to figure out how to end this article, I wondered if I made images for myself enough with purpose. And yes, I do. But I can always find those photos online and print them whenever I want. If an EMP knocks out all the telecommunications plants and I can’t access them anymore, then everyone will have the same problem. It will just mean that we need to go make new ones.